Well, I’m back from my rather long wander around some Korean islands. It was a wonderful time of hiking, exploring and being alone. Thus, I’m a bit late doing the Fictioneers story this week, but better late than never. I haven’t read any of the other stories in the group yet, so I hope we didn’t have the same idea.
“It flies,” Rose said, looking out her window at the barn next door.
“Does it indeed?” her mother asked. “It looks rather rundown to me.”
“Well, it used to fly. Dr. Corbeau attacked it with his horde of bamboozles and smashed in the side. I’m going to build a better one though, with rockets, and I’m going to fly it all over the world, even to Easter Island! Do you think I can? Huh?”
“I know you can, dear,” her mother said, moving the pint-sized wheelchair over next to the bed. “Now let’s go. It’s almost time for your chemo.”